No More Learning

XIII.

"In your chapel, O priest, ye have wedded and shriven
Fair wives for the hearth, and fair sinners for heaven;
But this fairest my sister, ye think now to wed,
Bid her kneel where she standeth, and shrive her instead:
O shrive her and wed not! "

XIV.

In tears, the bride's mother,--"Sir priest, unto thee
Would he lie, as he lied to this fair company. "
In wrath, the bride's lover,--"The lie shall be clear!
Speak it out, boy! the saints in their niches shall hear:
Be the charge proved or said not! "

XV.

Then serene in his childhood he lifted his face,
And his voice sounded holy and fit for the place,--
"Look down from your niches, ye still saints, and see
How she wears on her bosom a BROWN ROSARY!
Is it used for the praying? "

XVI.

The youths looked aside--to laugh there were a sin--
And the maidens' lips trembled from smiles shut within.
Quoth the priest, "Thou art wild, pretty boy! Blessed she
Who prefers at her bridal a brown rosary
To a worldly arraying. "

XVII.
The bridegroom spake low and led onward the bride
And before the high altar they stood side by side:
The rite-book is opened, the rite is begun,
They have knelt down together to rise up as one.
Who laughed by the altar?

XVIII.

The maidens looked forward, the youths looked around,
The bridegroom's eye flashed from his prayer at the sound;
And each saw the bride, as if no bride she were,
Gazing cold at the priest without gesture of prayer,
As he read from the psalter.

XIX.

The priest never knew that she did so, but still
He felt a power on him too strong for his will:
And whenever the Great Name was there to be read,
His voice sank to silence--THAT could not be said,
Or the air could not hold it.

XX.

"I have sinned," quoth he, "I have sinned, I wot"--
And the tears ran adown his old cheeks at the thought:
They dropped fast on the book, but he read on the same,
And aye was the silence where should be the NAME,--
As the choristers told it.

XXI.

The rite-book is closed, and the rite being done
They, who knelt down together, arise up as one:
Fair riseth the bride--Oh, a fair bride is she,
But, for all (think the maidens) that brown rosary,
No saint at her praying!

XXII.

What aileth the bridegroom? He glares blank and wide;
Then suddenly turning he kisseth the bride;
His lips stung her with cold; she glanced upwardly mute:
"Mine own wife," he said, and fell stark at her foot
In the word he was saying.

XXIII.

They have lifted him up, but his head sinks away,
And his face showeth bleak in the sunshine and grey.
Leave him now where he lieth--for oh, never more
Will he kneel at an altar or stand on a floor!